


Cherry Wine

by cherrypiecas



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Basically hell, Bisexuality, Dark, Deviates From Canon, Domestic Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Physical Abuse, Rape, Rape Recovery, Sad, Substance Abuse, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:41:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7790830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrypiecas/pseuds/cherrypiecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Deviates from Canon where Emily Prentiss is actually killed)</p><p>after the death of Agent Prentiss, Spencer Reid is left shaken and broken in her wake. </p><p>that's when he sees /her/.</p><p>and everything begins to fall apart at the seams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Wine

“She never made it off the table,” JJ’s voice rang through my ears as I felt myself jolt awake. The bile rose in my throat and I forced myself to choke it down along with all of the emotions that bubbled at the seams of my chest. I rubbed the delicate skin beneath my eyes and felt my whole body tense as I bit my lip and tried not to cry. I could hear my own heartbeat echoing in my ears, ringing out. Pressing my fingertips to my ears, I rocked back and forth. The sound was deafening and my entire head throbbed with pain. I reached for the migraine pills in the dark, the bottle rattling and falling to the floor. I forced myself to open my eyes, the light blinding. I reached out and felt the small tube, picking it up and cradling it close, as if it were a child. I shook one out into my hand, swallowing it dry. My lips had become considerably dry. I licked them, trying to regain some sort of moisture while I was bedridden. I lay back down, trying to block out everything that was Emily Prentiss but I just couldn’t. The cold hard facts were swirling with the emotional conjectures and it was difficult to tell which was which.

Emily Prentiss died on a Tuesday.

That was true.

It had been sunny that day. It was 61 degrees Fahrenheit.

Also true.

I should’ve asked more questions and been more willing to understand, giving her more help when I noticed that something was obviously wrong.

They told me it wasn’t true, but I know better.

I felt the effects of the pill begin to kick in, making my headache bearable enough to walk to the kitchen without collapsing. I wiped the cold sweat of my palms on my bedspread, yawning and grabbing the sunglasses from coffee table stacked with books. I cracked my knuckles as I yawned and walked to the kitchen, resting my head in my hands. A clock ticked nearby and I just wanted everything to be drowned out. Wiping my eyes again, I pressed the button on the coffee maker. I finally felt myself spin around and look at the clock, noticing the time. 1:21 am.

Shit.

I winced as I sat down on the kitchen table’s chair. The only time I used to be awake like this was when I was waking up with the withdrawal pains from Dilaudid. I blinked the budding tears away as I ran my fingers down the needle scars. The only way I knew how to rid myself of my emotions was drinking and even then, I’d still wake up the next morning. Yet I still felt myself reaching for my converse and pulling on the pair of black jeans I’d set out for myself. I grabbed my burgundy wine colored sweatshirt and pulled it over my head, my hair scuffled in the messy, wavy brown style that it often was. I grabbed my coffee and poured it into the old paper cup I’d used only a few hours ago and held it in my cold hands. The warmth radiated from the liquid as I poured the sugar into it. Blowing on it softly, I popped the top on and went to the door.

I walked out of the building, holding my coffee in both hands, finally feeling my hands grow warm. I stepped out into the wintry conditions and felt my nose, ears, and cheeks get the pins-and-needles feeling from the brisk weather. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a large lump of fabric. Shaking it out, I realized it was my beanie. I pulled in on the back of my head, my messy curls pushed to the front of my face. I licked my lips again, the chapped feeling biting back. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I sniffled. This was _stupid._

I strolled into a club, my mouth twitching slightly as I saw the strippers dancing wildly. I sighed as I shook my head and approached the bar, sitting down. The various liquors lined the bar’s counters, shining from the lights in a dazzling display.

“ID?” I heard a voice in front of me and focused my attention on the beautiful bartender in front of me. Her eyes smiled with a sort of cheerful giddiness.

I sighed as I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket, showing my ID as usual, despite my age being a little bit over 21.

“What can I get for you, love?” she winked as she motioned towards the display.

“I’ll have a whiskey, please.” I named the first drink that came to mind for wiping away the emotions that littered my mind. The last time I’d drank whiskey was when Gideon had left and I was shaking, holding the crumpled note in my hands. Now I sat as she poured the glass in front of me, the golden brown fluid next to my paper cup of coffee.

“Long night?” she asked.

“Yeah, do you have a trashcan back there?” I held the coffee cup up, handing it to her as she dropped it into the bin and moved away to attend to her other customers.

I held the glass in my hands, taking a sip. I swallowed hard, the burning in my throat reminding me of how awful it really was. I finished the glass quickly, flagging the bartender again and getting another glass, and then another. My throat felt sore and I licked my lips again, the taste just another reminder of Prentiss. My brain began to feel buzzed, like it was set on static. I stood up, leaving the cash under my glass. I bit the inside of my cheek, gritting my teeth as I saw the crowd around me. I stumbled and felt myself beginning to fall. I put my hands out, catching myself on the ground.

“Are you okay?” I saw long blonde hair and suddenly I was reeling, my mind shaking as I saw her face.

“Lila?” Her name dropped out of my mouth as she helped me to my feet.

“Spencer? What are you doing here?” the corner of her mouth turned upward and her lips curled into the most beautiful smile I thought I’d ever seen.

“I-I,” I felt myself hold back the real reason and blurted out a fake response, “I needed to get away from all of my books.”

“Well you’re a face I’d never thought I’d see at a club,” she chuckled, “What do you say we get out of here, go to my hotel room? We can talk a bit.”

My mind was whirling and I felt myself nodding before I could even think.

She folded her hand into mine and led me to the entrance. I felt like I was losing my mind, my brain power spiraling away as I watched her do the simplest things. I was remembering how she tasted in the pool that night – pomegranate and raspberry and _sweet_. She flagged down a taxi and I just tried to stay focused and not lose myself to my thoughts that so often harbored the feelings that made me want to scream and cry and hide. She pulled me into the taxi and stared me straight in the eyes, smiling again.

“So what are you doing here in D.C.?” I felt the question spat out of my mouth immediately as it came into my mind.

“I was filming a movie here and I decided I’d like to stay in the nation’s capital,” she smirked, “I’m currently looking for an apartment.”

“Oh,” I bit my lip, feeling a smile burning into my lips.

She took her hand, using her thumb to trace my cheekbone to my lips as she looked right at my lips. I looked into her eyes as she began to lean in, my whole mind panicking all at once. I was dumbfounded and my vision became hazy as she closed the gap. I kissed back gently, every second shaky and the pleasure immediately ringing up in my brain. I ran my fingers through her hair, the blonde strands silky soft and lovely. She tasted of pomegranate and raspberries and _sweet_ in the purest form. I was in ecstasy, feeling the tears jump to my eyes as I pulled away. Here we were, sitting in a shitty cab that smelled like smoke, kissing for the first time in years and the driver just thought we were just another drunken couple from some shitty club about to strip down in his cab.

“Wait until the hotel room, please.” He said quietly and I couldn’t help but chuckle as the tears ran from my eyes.

“Why are you crying, baby?”

My hands shook and I suddenly felt a wave of self-awareness as I saw the stunning black dress that outlined her figure in all of the right places compared to my raggedy sweatshirt and jeans that I hardly ever wore. I was looking away and shoving my hands in my pockets, licking my lips again.

“I’m just so happy,” I felt my throat tighten as I forced a smile, remembering how Prentiss used to smile before I blurted out, “My-my very good friend died.”

The dirty little secret had finally escaped and I was wishing that I could take it back. I blinked again, letting the tears fall down my face as I felt my throat getting tighter and tighter. I couldn’t cry. _Not here_.

“Don’t cry, baby.” She brushed her fingers down my jawline and pushed my chin up so I could meet her gaze.

The cab stopped suddenly. I reached forward to catch her as we both stumbled forward. I was dizzy as she got out and offered a hand. I took it as I wiped the tears off my face, giggling as I stumbled forward. All I could do was just build up a wall around the emotions to keep them at bay. We walked to the elevator, waiting patiently as it arrived. Suddenly her lips were on mine again and all I could do was embrace her, closing my eyes and my mind to shut everything out but _her._ We began with slow, delicate kisses as the elevator hurtled up to the floor, and I could hardly stand it anymore.

The elevator opened and I could finally take a breath as she practically yanked me to her room. Everything became blurry as I was pushed into the door as she fumbled for the room key, kissing me hard and open-mouthed with passion raging through my veins. She finally opened the door and I stumbled backwards, landing back on the bed. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be drunk and there was just a sense of pure mindlessness that made me forget what my name even was. (It’s Dr. Spencer Reid, you absolute idiot, I told myself.)

“Oh, shit,” I whispered as she leaned in, hungry for more kisses.

Our mouths collided again and I was trying to handle her but I felt her nearly overwhelming force. She put her hand on my chest, pushing my back into the mattress as she climbed on top of me. I paused for a moment, dazed and awkward as I caught my breath. My vision blurred again and I breathed hard, shaking my head for a moment.

“I’d love to continue but I’m really sleepy,” I yawned as I reached out and brushed her hair away from her eyes, “Plus, you’re drunk and I don’t want to do this when we’re drunk.”

“Sure,” she said quietly and hesitantly as she flickered off the lights, “Usually men want it.”

“If you didn’t figure it out already, I’m not exactly ‘usual’.” I felt the corner of my mouth twitch again as she climbed back on top of me.

I felt my face flush as she placed her fingers in my waistband. She kissed me gently again before lying on my chest. Her hair felt soft on my arm and I kissed the top of her head gently. Closing my eyes, I felt myself drift into a dreamless slumber. The last thing I remember thinking was how nice her locks of long blonde hair felt on my skin.


End file.
